Date: 1791, 1794

"Almost a week was now gone, and Charlotte continued every evening to meet Montraville, and in her heart every meeting was resolved to be the last; but alas! when Montraville at parting would earnestly intreat one more interview, that treacherous heart betrayed her; and, forgetful of its resoluti...

— Rowson, Susanna (1762-1828)

Date: 1791, 1794

"I foolishly thought, some few years since, that every sense of joy was buried in the graves of my dear partner and my son; but my Lucy, by her filial affection, soothed my soul to peace, and this dear Charlotte has twined herself round my heart, and opened such new scenes of delight to my view, ...

— Rowson, Susanna (1762-1828)

Date: 1791, 1794

"I will wear a smile on my face, though the thorn rankles in my heart."

— Rowson, Susanna (1762-1828)

Date: 1791, 1794

"The goodness of her heart is depicted in her ingenuous countenance."

— Rowson, Susanna (1762-1828)

Date: 1791, 1794

"I mean not to extenuate the faults of those unhappy women who fall victims to guilt and folly; but surely, when we reflect how many errors we are ourselves subject to, how many secret faults lie hid in the recesses of our hearts, which we should blush to have brought into open day (and yet those...

— Rowson, Susanna (1762-1828)

Date: 1791, 1794

"His visit was not long, but before he went he fixed a scorpion in the heart of Charlotte, whose venom embittered every future hour of her life."

— Rowson, Susanna (1762-1828)

Date: 1791, 1794

"I would endure it all chearfully, could I but once more see my dear, blessed mother, hear her pronounce my pardon, and bless me before I died; but alas! I shall never see her more; she has blotted the ungrateful Charlotte from her remembrance, and I shall sink to the grave loaded with her's and ...

— Rowson, Susanna (1762-1828)

Date: 1791, 1794

"Oh! never, never! whilst I have existence, will the agony of that moment be erased from my memory."

— Rowson, Susanna (1762-1828)

Date: 1791, 1794

"My daily employment is to think of you and weep, to pray for your happiness and deplore my own folly: my nights are scarce more happy, for if by chance I close my weary eyes, and hope some small forgetfulness of sorrow, some little time to pass in sweet oblivion, fancy, still waking, wafts me ho...

— Rowson, Susanna (1762-1828)

Date: 1791, 1794

"The name, like a sudden spark of electric fire, seemed for a moment to suspend his faculties--for a moment he was transfixed; but recovering, he caught Belcour's hand, and cried--'Stop! stop! I beseech you, name not the lovely Julia and the wretched Montraville in the same breath."

— Rowson, Susanna (1762-1828)